Does the color of the sky mean anything to you? It means a lot to me. And in Ace Combat 7, which is for me the sixth Ace Combat game I have played — all in a row, beginning from the second one and skipping over the 360-exclusive sixth entry — the color of the sky was among the first of many details that told me I was in for the ultimate arcade flight experience.

Truly, the fidelity and graphical upgrade compared to the PS2 era is insane. But I don't just want to say it looks nicer, which it does. It’s that the visual improvements changed my relationship with the world, too. I played the game on Normal, which was pleasantly challenging, but the first time I died wasn’t at an enemy’s hands.

I was bombing ground targets in mission two. I flew down through a cloud to get close to a target and graze the ground, the usual arcade maneuvers you could get away with in the PS2 era. As I leveled with the ground, I blasted missiles point blank, and just as I blew through the smoke — there, a power line. I exploded.

I was flying over a town, of course there are power lines, and if this series could have pulled it off there always would have been. But now they’re here and they’re lethal. There’s not just more to see, prettier than ever before. The world is richer, fuller.

The dynamism of extreme weather conditions play very nicely here, too. The very first time i got zapped by lightning, I was flying between those columns on the map reminiscent of Zhangjiajie National Forest in Hunan. I saw a flash, heard the crack of thunder, my nose dove down and I crashed into a pillar, all in a matter of two seconds tops. The perfect tempo to teach me a lesson about the thunderclouds.

That columnar forest is just one of several striking levels in this game, which is incandescent with eye-pleasing sites. The colors are more vibrant and meaningful than they were in the franchise’s muted, drab PS2 days. The nighttime city missions are moody, the moonlit run through a valley to the ocean coast is sublime, the orange-red sandstone desert bombing level is gorgeous, that episode featuring the sea platforms and a navy you have to take down — it’s all fantastic. Not even to mention the return of architectural series staples like Stonehenge and the Mass Driver alongside the new and iconic Space Elevator.

These skies are just beautiful. Seeing my plane and my squadron dot the sky, whether it’s fuzzy peach mornings or deep midnight blue over the moonlit ocean, it’s genuinely moving. "Deep blue..."

And that's just the visual aesthetics. Besides that all, I dig the mission design a lot. The valley stealth-run between the spotlights, the times IFFs get spoofed or hijacked, running from one ground combat zone to another while also plinking waves of planes on their way to bomb Stonehenge. There's a ton of cool stuff in this game.

One thing I particularly missed about Ace Combat Zero, the previous game I played in the series, was its emphasis on battling enemy aces. These games are at their best when dogfighting abounds, and after we saw Mihaly pull a cobra maneuver to Champ’s chagrin (and demise), I thought I'd be in for another several rounds of hype, high-pitched battles. Turns out Sol squadron is the only one you're ever concerned about. Give us more! Maybe I'll be satisfied when I replay the game on Hard mode.

This game features motivated characters who are colored in with personality. I wish I liked them more, but at least there is much more to chew on than Ace Combat Zero and its singular character in Pixy. Actually, I wish I liked the whole narrative more. Getting framed? Cool. But falling into the penal squadron felt like *I* was getting punished. I just couldn't wait for that to be over. I got sick of everyone negging me all the time!

And that isn't even to get into the philosophically weak essentialism about Belkans and Project Aces’ apparent failure to say anything of interest about liberalism, international coalitions, or any of the other political ideas this game tosses around the way a child plays with action figures. But I don't terribly mind this because I don't expect much from the cool fighter sim, which is more potent as a political-philosophical tool than it is as a text.

I mean that these games make you feel like your ability is boundless, and it prompts introspection. The raw power you feel, watching yourself rapidly lock onto 4 ground targets 2 miles away, letting loose and devastating the enemy’s AA capabilities — then the radio flushes with panicked enemy chatter, a klaxon begins to whine across the hills — it’s incredible. it’s intoxicating and politically dangerous, all military technology is, and it is undeniably awesome as a play experience.

As a matter of honesty and sincerity in understanding power, it’s important to appreciate those moments of utter capacity, of total destructive control. That’s what i mean when I suggest arcade experiences, especially with such great attention to detail and aspirations toward fidelity with the real world, can be powerful simulations of utter, unfettered power.

In the interest of completeness, I have to say that the moments of disempowerment in AC7 are also quite moving. I really loved that the game teases you with the vulnerability of an Arsenal Bird, then has us disengage from its infinite fleet of drones before we get the chance, several missions later, to bat it out of the sky. I liked that Mister X dueled us as a provocation, not a genuine deadly challenge, so many missions before we get to trash him. And when the death of former President Harling was pinned on me, I was sure it was a negative outcome that could have been avoided — it just seemed so unreal. I felt personally betrayed when I realized that was the unavoidable outcome of the level, the direction of the narrative, condemning me to hang with a bunch of jerks and get yelled at by a cranky AWACS... for maybe a good while too long.

It’s not 100% rosy improvements here over previous games, as I gestured to before. In addition to the previous criticisms, I have to say that the squadron AI is worse than before, it feels like friendlies make very little impact in the battle, and i miss being able to issue commands. AC Zero was a real series highlight in this way.

And I’m not a huge fan of how the narrative is expressed more cinematically, in a third-personal, movielike and cutscenely fashion. I really loved the previous framing devices: the letters sent to Mobius 1, the documentary filmed in AC Zero. The player character, Trigger, is again nameless and void of personality or lines, missing from every scene, even the ones where other cast members finally meet up in person — the sort of situation where it makes sense to write around the protagonist’s presence. What do i expect, that Trigger’s always taking a nap and unenthused about all the drama around em? Boring!

I haven't played the DLC and am not sure when I will, since I'm a little loathe to spend $15 or $20 on just three missions. But I probably will someday, because I love these games, I love how this game feels and makes me feel, and boy do I so badly want another one, ASAP.

The lows are mere sundogs compared to the brightest highs that utterly eclipse them. This is a damn fine game and one of the most fun times I had playing, replaying, cursing and cheering my way through a videogame in recent memory. Superb. Easy to recommend, even if you don't love it as much as I did, which I might not even expect. But for someone who's been running through six of these games now in about as many weeks, boy am I glad to have done it this way.

Does the color of the sky mean anything to you?